


The Breaking Banner (Temporary name)

by Ari_Gokotta



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:49:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9688124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ari_Gokotta/pseuds/Ari_Gokotta
Summary: This fic takes place during the dissimilation of the 'original' Overwatch around 2070. And the emotional states it has on the individual characters, their relations, their resolves, and management of their own wellbeing and their friends and loved ones. It's gonna be in work for a while so any suggestions are welcome!!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to @TheMiddleEast for inspiring me to write in the first place

Maim.  
Angela...  
Angela!

She snapped out of it. Wandering thoughts were always a flaw of hers, as highly acclaimed as she is, the funny things that cross her mind; Utterly peculiar. Angela wasn’t even looking at the glistening Spanish sun, the whole place was a trance around this time of year, long sunsets meant the dust could be seen dancing in the air along with the dull fanfare of the ocean waves clapping along the rocks in beautiful discord.

“Maim, Commander Morrison and the Counsel need you in the meeting room now.”

“... oh, yes. Thank you officer.” Angela turned from the windows hazy winter sunset, as soft as her voice replied.

Her footsteps were silent, everything was silent. The personnel staff’s footsteps were silent. She was being followed by the daze of the view, god knows how long she waited for the call to enter. Only a weak echo from the long tunnel they were walking through. Footsteps bouncing around the hall in a eerie way.

“Just in here maim”, the soldier pivoted himself informally around and waved his hand low towards the open door.

The space is large for a meeting room, a semi-oval shape with a even larger single panel window showing the Gibraltar seascape. A metal walkway a story higher roundabouts with ministries, beauru, international executives of the UN. And at the central panel;

“Jack!”

He continued eagle-eyeing out the giant oriel. Not present was his signature navy blue trench coat, it was improper to wear it to such an occasion. The room was ablaze in bickering and unwarranted discussion of personnel here at Overwatch, even some complaining about the way the officers greeted them informally, as if these people here today were kings that needed to have their boots kissed.

“Please be seated again, the interim has ended, if we may...” Said what looked like a UN higher-up, maybe the security chief. Jack took his seat without delivering a word, his gentlemanly ways got the better of him, pulling out the seat next to him before he took his place again, in a dilapidated and spent voice he said warmly to her;

“Sit, we’ll be out of here shortly” As if he was going to walk out if it was longer than 10 minutes like an angsty teenager. He probably still thought he had some white-collar work to finish off before heading off on another adventure.

“Will the operative Angela Ziegler please stand for the committee.”

A rush of blood shot to he heart. That quick? she thought. She had no idea what was going to be said to her, questions, incursions against her? 

“Your papers please, Operative.”

Oh, standard procedure before intel was shared. She had her Overwatch agent badge, alongside her Swiss passport and EU authorized Specialist Visa, the same ones they’d give to people arming and creating nuclear devices mandated by governments, coincidentally the same that workers and engineers at NASA also need to make humanities tools of the future.

She placed them on the table infront of her, before her eyes even raised again, jacks left hand pounced on them and slid them down the long table, to the end where 3 committee members sat, as well as what this head honcho asked for. This rather overweight man took hold, studied the passport alongside her Visa. 

“...mmyes, this is sound.” As if he was almost ashamed he couldn’t find a flaw in her Visa, a bend in her passport, a broken part of her badge.

“Miss Ziegler...”

“Doctor” Immediately reaffirmed Jack.

“Doctor Ziegler, you’re a main figure here at this group yes?”

“Of course” She said. Like they don’t know who she is... assholes. Thought Morrison.

“ Well it seems here we have a pickle, yes? Pickle being your inhumane performance of unbroken dodges to the law! Attempted resurrection of a human being!? Tell me in this current world’s affairs do you really think we need a bloody zombie thriller in real world? Have you no bloody shame? Another point I’d like to make against this playground for lunacy, experimenting with the fucking dead!” Asserted the man in his euro-pacific accent.

“I... I don’t...”

Jack raised himself without warning; “Minister! You are not here to abuse a medical professional and assert your false dominance over this league of wonderful people I command!” Spoken like his forgot his voyeuristic American hero ensemble. Angela was lost of whether to stand or sit now, she looked down at her seat, than looked back up with her hand hovering over her mouth at the scene unfolding.

“Jack Morrison! You have already been formally retired! Sit your ass back down son before we do worse than retire you!” Shouted a US military chief now standing opposite right to Jack.

Retired? Oh my god, Jack... dismissed? The Commander of Overwatch has been dismissed?!

“What you are here for ladies and gentlemen, is the first installation & introduction of the signing of the Petras Act” Spoke a strong postured, grinning shadow minister for the current English Prime-Minister. “A treaty that has already been signed by 183 countries, nations, unions and states and counting. Within this act are the beginning of the formal closure of the organization Overwatch, permanently.”

Chapter 1.  
A Night in Valencia  
The night’s empty, Morrison couldn’t sleep, he had no reason to. The varying state of things surrounding him, his career, his life, his friends were under a iron mallet hanging by a thread that he was responsible for. Jack paced from the bathroom mirror to the bedroom. High living standards and fancy hotels were now becoming claustrophobic is a mild way. With some consideration and phone scrolling, he thought it best to try one more time.

Brrrrrr...  
Brrrrrr...

An Omnic ladies voice replied “I’m sorry, the number you have called could not be connected, please tr-”

Jack threw the phone on the bed enraged almost, he strained his jaw and clenched his fists, did that fucking idiot even know what’s going on here? He pressed the service button, requesting a cigar. He didn’t really enjoy it, it wasn’t smooth, and it wasn’t really a suiting figure for a former operations leader, but anything to calm his nerves would be welcomed to say the least.

Bzzz. “And some whisky, thank you” 

May as well go the whole Jesse now, he realised.

Moments later a finely shined silver platter with a reflective Red-oak box and a rather cute miniature whisky bottle lay on top. Jack was undressed on the balcony. He knew someone might take a photo of the man in his underwear, smoking at a 5-star hotel. His reputation was not getting any better so he had no reason to worry. He was ignorant to the world when he needed to be.

“Those things will kill you, Jack”

He knew who it was, and he didn’t look behind him.

“Cut the fucking act, Batman. You have any damn idea what happened today? They’re ending it.”

“...Probably for the best”

Jack, almost stunned, turned to Gabriel. He was sharply dressed, looking like he freshly emerged from a formal ball. Slim fit, as always.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to form this association?” Jack blurted.

“I know it wasn’t you who formed it~” He stretched his arms after entering. “it was governments from around the world, now they’re shutting it down, circle of life” As he removed his signature Blackwatch beanie and placed it folded on the small table near the entrance, which was closed now. Along with removing his shoes and leaving them by the door.

“These kinds of... Organisations, they are something we need to protect, there’s never been a organisation like this in history. With this much responsibly and moral”

“Some would call it the UN’s private military Jack, seems pretty fucking scary, huh?”

Jack was surprised Gabe thought of their family in such a way.

“You genuinely think we’re being controlled? As in we’re just hired guns?”

“You know we have freewill here, but if they give you a rundown you have always taken it”

“Not true” Quickly countered Jack.  
“That time in Ankara”

“That time in Ankara, Jack, could be one of the reasons were in this situation”

Jack snickered. A small giggle accompanied.  
“We have done alot of bad shit”

Gabe reassured, getting up off the end of the bed to join Jack on the balcony, grabbing the small whisky glass on the way.

“Jack, this isn’t going to get easier. We’re going to be old men in a few decades, and I want to make sure you’re aware of what it’s like for former operatives trying to live a life after this.”

Jack planning in his head, after a short pause;  
“Where will you go?”

“Dunno, maybe home, but I can’t put my family at risk”

“What, your family home, in Leon?”

“Yeah” Gabe took a swoon gulp of the whisky,  
“But like I said, I can’t put anyone I know at risk, anyone left at least”

Jack snickered to himself, Gabe liked when he did, his cheekbones were so prominent, so his eyes would squint so he can hide it easier. But after referencing his murdered family to him, this was very uncanny.

“What are you laughing at?” Gabe’s face began to light up.  
“You laughin’ because you finally don’t need to worry about me? Old boy?” Said Gabe.

Jack swept the bottle to take a sip again.

“You want me to alope with you, hey?”

Gabe jokingly punched his shoulder, accompanied with a smile. Jack propped his elbows on the panelling.

“American dream, alope with your secretive lover and fuck off to Mexico? Live with your Mamá and abuelos?”

“You know all this time in Europe, you’re getting a accent, kind of a Pacific vibe. You sound smart now.”

“You don’t like it?” Jack naively gazed up at him. Looking like a dumb puppy.

“Kind of hot.” Said Gabe maturely, resetting his face with a upwards lip, springing back to the view of the ocean as he said it.

The clouds earlier in the night had made their way. A wonderful Valencian night 60 floors high, there was a light ting of woodfire from the suburbs bellow reaching all the way up, accompanied barely by the few moving red lights at street level 

Jack said after the long pause, recovered from the cackle before in his respective voice.

“Gabe, are you scared?”

“No, Romeo. Are you?”

The cigar exhausted, now resting on the railing.

“I’m worried, for us all”

“Fuck off Jack”

“It’s normal for me to care about them”

“They can care for themselves”

Jack was lost for words, didn’t know how to reply. In fact most of today he hasn’t known what to say. Gabe was as careless with his words as he was with his acts. 

“I should get going.”

“You didn’t want to stay?”

Reyes gave him a almost disappointed look. They both realised their relationship was asunder, missing when nothing was really there at all. There was love, genuine companionship. Something they never considered, still haven’t. Their love was factual, clinical. They ate their lunch together, they shit-talked together occasionally. Their love for oneanother washed over them mutually like a velvety wave - it felt natural. Love for a best friend never feels so mellow, there is no flirty talk, no gossiping. It was mutual to both of them that they felt happier when they were together; warm. 

Jack, for all incentive purposes; probably the alcohol, felt a sharp collapse in his chest and arched over the balcony, at the same time to play it off as if nothing was happening. What was happening was his best friend, his love was leaving, again. The back of his throat contracted forward and his eyes shut along with his teeth clenched. Look natural.

“I’ll see you soon, yes?” Said Gabe as he walked back inside.

A short interlude before Jack replied.

“Yeah”

Gabe took his beanie in hand. He noticed a painting above the small door side table was crooked. He didn’t hesitate in fixing it. Slipping on his shoes with either foot with a considerate tap against the floor to fit them on snug.

“We’ve never been this open, are you alright... Jack?”

Morrison was satisfied that anything he could muster up to say right now would be a blabberful mess. He took a tactical decision that he should comply. He lightly cleared his throat and stood up straighter, but still not straight, with a blank face he nodded, followed by a grin. 

“Eventually Jack.”

“... I know” 

Gabe didn’t waste anymore of his own time. He shut the door behind himself. The tone of that was cue for Jacks legs to collapse. He felt so heavy keeping himself up. Tears were beginning to drop down as his tear ducts let go. He couldn’t look after himself. This was the ugly kind of sobbing. He was hoping he just pretended to close the door, fucking with him again, and that he’d come over to console his heavy heart. Jack looked behind himself just in case.  
He saw nothing. This is it, the fall of Commanding Officer Jack Morrison he knew, because it kept repeating in his head, it has been the last few days.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're here, thank you so much!! I'll be continually editing, tweaking and adding to this story as I think it's a important part of the OW story to explain. Suggestions are welcome, also. Genuinly, have a lovely day :^


End file.
